


Art

by pylades



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pylades/pseuds/pylades
Summary: Jack and Katherine and sweet arting. (AKA, I really enjoy the Jack-draws-Katherine trope.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writetheniteaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetheniteaway/gifts).



> Catching up on moving things from tumblr to AO3. This was inspired by a post on writetheniteaway's tumblr:
> 
> "no trope fucks me up more than when person A watches person B with softness and wonder, all while person B is unaware"
> 
> And, of course, her tags:
> 
> #BONUS PERSON B NOTICES AND GETS REALLY ANNOYED#UNTIL PERSON A REVEALS THEY’VE BEEN ARTING AND ITS ADORABLE#I FUCKING MISS MY BABIES OK#LAMBCUDDLES

The moon is still bright in the sky when he stirs, reaching across the bed to draw his wife closer. While the part of the mattress that she occupies is still soft and warm from her presence, she is gone.

And that’s when Jack catches sight of her, slumped in the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Her shoulders are hunched protectively around the bundle (a not-at-all slight bundle, too, for he’s grown a good inch and three pounds in the past few weeks).

She’s going to be sore in the morning.

Little Davey hasn’t been sleeping well lately and, even though Jack tries his best to share the burden of late night soothings, Katherine often beats him to the task.

He props himself up on one elbow, watching the two through sleepy eyes. Katherine’s hand, gentle but loose on their son’s back. Her soft puffs of breath stir the fine, dark hair that caps David’s tiny head.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of watching Katherine like this. During the day, she’s a blur of motion. Working, organizing, mothering (not just their son, but all of their friends and family and strangers she’s just met). She’s animated and alive and he loves watching her like that. He loves her brightly colored dresses and silly little hats, and the turn of her foot in those boots that take forever to put on and just as long for him to help take off. But like this, she’s quiet and calm and soft curves in a faded nightgown. Her hair is loose and he could draw that alone for hours.

Jack stretches carefully, doing his best to avoid the familiar creaks of the bed, to reach for his pencil and a scrap of paper. They’re a strange couple, him and his Kath, always with paper and pencil in reach. But moments like this are the reason for that, because he can’t resist the spill of moonlight that illuminates mother and child.

He focuses on the soft quirk of her lips, Davey’s pursed mouth. Disheveled curls around Katherine’s shoulder, his fine, sweat dampened hair.

His pencil is almost down to its nub when Jack hears her annoyed huff from nearby and realizes that Davey is back in his crib.

“Jack! You should be sleeping -”

The bed sinks beside him and Katherine plucks the pencil out of his hand. She knows better than to reach for the paper, lest she smudge it with the heat of her skin.

He holds it up for her and Katherine snuggles into his shoulder. “It’s lovely.” If she was annoyed with him for being awake when he should have been resting, for drawing in the dark, she didn’t sound it now.

“You’re lovely,” Jack reminds her, putting the paper on the stand beside the bed. “Night, Ace.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”


End file.
